


Butchered

by ChloShow



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Demon DeBlanc, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7588600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloShow/pseuds/ChloShow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DeBlanc's personal Hell</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butchered

Diving back into the hell that was Hell, DeBlanc recognized the same acrid smell that enveloped the place like he was caught in the middle of a thunderstorm of sulfur. Oh, Hell burned alright, but not with the raging infernos depicted in the Bible. A more apt description was that he was not paid enough (or at all) to endure the day-in, day-out drudgery of the smog-filled underworld with the distant screams of tortured souls punctuating infinity.

Needless to say, you had to have a sense of humor to work there.

Then you had Heaven. In comparison, Heaven was truly a Paradise. Sure, the angels were stuffy and bound up in rules, but if all he had to do was follow the rules to keep his position guarding Genesis, he’d gladly forsake his nature as a demon.

But, well, he fucked that up didn’t he. No, _they’d_ fucked that up, and he’d convinced Fiore to bend the rules, go to Earth unregistered to fix their mistake, contain the security breach. They were both forsaking their natures, and it never occurred to him that the two warring factions from above and below were more similar than they’d originally thought. Never occurred to him that an angel and a demon could fall in love with all the hate pent up across their worlds over the millennia. But the idea became less and less inconceivable the more time he spent with Fiore.

He opened the door to the Butcher of Gettysburg’s memory that had most likely looped more times than he could fathom, looking out over an all too familiar sight. The dead littering the floor pulled him back to the fight with the Seraph and all the bloody work that went into dismantling and disposing the bodies.

Blood squished underneath their boots as they approached the bar when the Butcher drew his pistols and aimed at their chests.

“You want this to end? You want to be free of all this?” The unbroken cycle of reliving one’s worst memory had to grate on a man after a while. DeBlanc knew he had to keep his confidence, not let on to how bloody terrified he was staring into those pitch black eyes. If there was a way for someone to become so tattered that whatever remnants of a soul they had left were all but nonexistent, that’s what he saw in the Butcher. “We have a job for you.”

“What job?” The voice was soft like the tone a serial killer took while sneaking up on you from behind and whispering into your ear that he was about to slit your throat.

 _I can handle this._ DeBlanc lied to himself. What if he couldn’t handle this…?

Fiore, oh dear Fiore, was stiff beside him, taut as a rusted cable. He regretted letting his partner step foot into this personal Hell. If he was killed, then what? Fiore would surely be dead next, and then they’d both be lost, strewn across the infernal nebula. Maybe that’s why he chose to step forward, too much false confidence, trying too hard to show Fiore that everything would be fine that they’d be out of there in a jiffy. “Come with us, and we’ll tell ya.”

A shot rang out, and his incorporeal consciousness waited for a new body. The new bodies were always a constant. Where he’d end up, where _Fiore_ would end up, ay—there was the rub.

**

He opened the door to the Butcher of Gettysburg’s memory that had most likely looped more times than he could fathom—

“DeBlanc?”

A familiar voice called to him from downstairs accompanied by the creak of saloon doors. The room was frozen, including a version of his partner caught in midstride beside him. He descended the stairs to the corpse-ridden floor below and lo and behold was Fiore, clearly flabbergasted.

“DeBlanc, I thought you said Hell was your worst memory played on repeat until the end of time.” He peered up the stairwell to confirm what had confused him in the first place as he entered DeBlanc’s Hell. “How can that be when this _just_ happened!”

The angel could be thick sometimes, but in that moment, DeBlanc was just as puzzled. He replayed the scenario in his head, shaking off the mind fog that accompanied a damned soul for their first few months in Hell. There were many memories that were far more gruesome and violent than his confrontation with the Butcher. But maybe violence wasn’t the answer…

Fiore searched his partner’s face for an explanation as realization slowly dawned on the demon. “DeBlanc?”

“It was about you,” DeBlanc voiced in awe, “He killed me. You were by yourself. We were separated. It was about you.”

“About me?” The permanently shocked expression on his face grew more exaggerated.

“Yes, my love.” He ran his thumb over Fiore’s brow and noticed the stain of dried tears on his cheeks. Taking both sides of the angel’s face in his calloused hands, he pressed a kiss in to his partner’s forehead. Fiore leaned forward to accept the tender kiss, and at a loss for what to do with his clunky body, placed his hands carefully over DeBlanc’s.

Resignation settled into his jaw and a deep hollowness swept over his eyes, “We can’t go back to Heaven can we…”

“I’m afraid not," he replied in the sweetest voice he could muster despite the circumstances. Heaven wouldn't have them, Hell was out of the question, and a bounty was on their heads. Even if they managed to recapture Genesis, they'd be permanently banned from traveling and confined to their particular domains without the other. He was almost too engrossed in his reunion with Fiore to remember why they were in Hell until he heard the creak of the saloon doors once more.

A black silhouette outlined against the rotting wood loomed before them, interrupting their private moment. Fiore grew ashen, swallowed a lump in his throat, and straightened his shoulders to face the Butcher. 

"Alright, let's go." Fiore's voice may have wavered slightly, but DeBlanc's heart swelled with pride for his partner's resolve. With a whole host of supernatural beings on their tail, he readied himself to return to Earth. The world was still highly unfamiliar, but with Fiore by his side, they'd brave the new horizon together.

**Author's Note:**

> I know....this will probably be canon-noncompliant as soon as the finale airs, but I needed to write something in between now and "Call and Response."  
> And by the way!!! This is written with them not being Genesis' parents, just representatives from Hell and Heaven to guard Genesis.


End file.
